


Straddle the Line in Discord and Rhyme

by Anonymous



Series: The Losers' Pack [1]
Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Childhood Trauma, Derry (Stephen King) is Terrible, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Mentioned Henry Bowers, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-22 23:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21310378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: I wrote this on a whim: https://sunxcherries.tumblr.com/post/188768346156/untitled-reddie-abo-anon only to find the idea wouldn't leave me alone, so this starts very shortly after that snippet ends, and builds not only on Eddie and Richie's burgeoning relationship, but on the pack dynamics within the Losers Club, the social implications of their very non-standard pack living in a close-minded small town, this particular AU's take on the whole A/B/O thing, Eddie's relationship with himself, the scars left by his upbringing...This is going to start with most of the Losers as college students working jobs and may continue as a series that follows them into further adulthood.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: The Losers' Pack [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536295
Comments: 18
Kudos: 69
Collections: Anonymous, It Faves





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vampdocx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampdocx/gifts).

> So... I was never an A/B/O fan before this, have read a little bit when authors I like have written it in some of my other fandoms, but I really love the Losers as one big family unit, and so when I saw sunxcherries' take on them as a pack... yeah. Apparently I GOT into it. Hard. I'm waaay less into the werewolf-y aspects and way more into the social implications and how life in Derry as a pack would differ for them from life in a real city, so while there will be improbable porn etc, like... I don't know if I can write knotting, and if that's what you're here for, my apologies. It's way more about them working through their problems by leaning into each other (and teasing each other).
> 
> No shapeshifting alien clown, instead Henry Bowers and company is responsible for the bulk of the club's childhood traumas (those not caused by parents, in Eddie and Bev's cases, at any rate). Using the timeline of the Muschietti films but bringing in bits of characterization and history from the book/miniseries just where I feel those things are much-needed.

When Ben knocks on the door-- softly, with a mention of breakfast-- Richie jerks awake, and far from the blissful moment Eddie had allowed himself to imagine, he scrambles back until he hits the wall, his eyes wide.

“Shit, when did I-- what happened? Eddie?” His lip wobbles-- his entire jaw-- and he looks to Eddie for an answer, terrified, completely withdrawn from him. “Eddie, I-- I didn’t--?”

“Bill helped me carry you in and put you to bed. It’s okay, Richie, you’re okay.”

He nods, comes down slowly from the moment of panic, though relaxing doesn’t seem to come easily to him in the moment. “Are you?”

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Another nod, and this time Richie finally loses that edge of fear, hands dropping-- the one that had been pressed flat to the wall landing on the bed, the one clutched to his chest landing in his lap.

“Come on. You’ll feel better with some breakfast. I’m _ famished_.” Eddie reaches out to him, and when Richie doesn’t take his hand immediately, he gives him his best puppy dog eyes, and then Richie is on his feet, wrapping Eddie in a bathrobe and escorting him down to the dining room, where the rest of the Losers are already at the table-- and where they’re all quick to greet the two of them with wolf-whistles and applause.

“Cut it out.” Eddie huffs, face heating.

“It wasn’t like that.” Richie says quickly, pushing Eddie’s chair in for him and then piling his plate with food, before going for coffee. He grabs two mugs without thinking about it, but it’s not like the others can chalk that up to a morning after thing, he’s been doing that since Eddie moved in.

“Uh-huh.” Bev grins.

“No, really. We didn’t-- I didn’t--”

“Lay off, you guys, if they say it wasn’t like that, it wasn’t like that.” Bill says, and everyone sobers at that, for which Eddie is grateful. There are times when Bill’s inherent air of ‘what I say goes’ is useful. He’d never pull rank on them on purpose, outside of something life-or-death, but the way he is, he’d never have to, Eddie doesn’t think.

Of course, then Bill pulls out five bucks to hand over to Mike, and Stan sighs and follows suit, and Eddie realizes they must have come to breakfast with their wallets-- or at least a fiver-- in pocket because of what they’d overheard the night before, but Richie is watching this happen with his jaw dropped, and then Bev and Ben also pay up and Eddie gasps. He’d thought this was at least confined to Bill, Mike, and Stan’s bedroom, but apparently the whole house had been in on this bet.

“What the fuck?” Richie whines, forking eggs onto his own plate. 

“I bet it wouldn’t take a week after Eddie quit his blockers and left his mom’s house before his libido kicked in and you finally…” Stan gestures vaguely. “Unloaded six or seven years of pent-up frustration.”

“And then I said I didn’t think you’d actually get your act together until he’d lived here a couple months, and Mike said Eddie would go for it but you would worry about taking advantage of him… In my defense, I didn’t think he’d have a heat cycle, just… you know.” Bill has the good grace to get a little embarrassed, though Eddie thinks he _ could _ stand to be a little moreso.

“A sex drive? Did you guys pull in anyone from outside the house to join in the bet on how I’d handle no longer being chemically castrated?” 

“We’d never!” Ben shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that-- I mean, we were just talking, when you first moved in--”

“Yeah, I notice you still gave Mike five bucks.”

Ben blushes. “Well… I just-- I mean it wasn’t a formal bet, it just only seemed fair to pay up if everyone else was, since…”

He trails off into an inaudible mumble, and doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes, only to accidentally lock eyes with Richie.

“Since?” Richie prompts, a slight growl to his voice, and Eddie tries to tamp down on the answering thrill he feels at even this little ‘defense’.

“Since I said you would… propose first.” Ben admits, even redder than before. Immediately, Richie’s anger is extinguished, and he leans across the table to slap Ben’s shoulder, laughing.

“Oh boy, Haystack, your faith in me is sweet, but _ so _ undeserved.”

“I had no faith in you, if that helps.” Bev kicks at him under the table. “I was with Stan, only I thought you wouldn’t even make it to a bedroom. You’ve had it bad since before I met you, I was anticipating a sexual explosion.”

“Thank you, Beverly. So, Mike, what are you doing with your ill-gotten gains?”

Mike rolls his eyes, and takes the whole wad of ones and fives over to the jar on top of the fridge-- the one marked ‘LA’. Most of the pack’s savings was in the bank, but the filling-up of the jar before taking it and depositing it together was a ritual-- one Eddie had been a part of well before he had moved into the house, when he’d ferreted away loose change after errands to add to their escape plan. None of them wanted to stay in Derry-- the town had tormented them all, in little ways and big ones. It was Richie whose dream had a location, and he’d chosen LA because of all the places he could break into show business, it was the farthest from Maine. The others had all agreed that they could pursue their own dreams from anywhere, that they could work towards transferring from the local community college to something in southern California, find a place to live together, work out how to carpool effectively… 

Eddie had always thought moving to LA would be his escape, that he would be stuck under his mother’s thumb until his friends spirited him away across the country, hadn’t known he’d have the strength to leave her, knowing she was still right there in the house he grew up in.. but he’s glad he did. Living with his friends, in the pack they’d formed as kids and swore they’d always be… even before the heat and Richie and the idea that there’s something real there he can have, it had been freeing. When they’d dismantled the little home office to make him a bedroom, and helped him with all his things, and he’d felt like he could _ breathe _ for the first time in his life…

The conversation shifts away from Eddie-- and Richie-- and towards the mundane, everyone’s plans for the day, who’s expected in at a part-time job, who needs to study, who’s taking on which household duties for the day. Some chores are pretty regularly down to one or two people and others rotate, Eddie is still finding his place in the system, but he’s efficient and thorough when it comes to cleaning, and finds the job pleasant when it’s shared, and today Richie is quick to volunteer to help him tackle kitchen clean-up, despite how exhausted he looks even after coffee and a good breakfast. 

“You need to go take a nap.” He admonishes, when the dishes are going and the kitchen spotless. 

“Okay.” Richie gives him a long look, and just… doesn’t argue. Which is new, and heady. Richie argues all the time, even if he doesn’t mean it at all. 

“Wait-- first… get me a couple bucks out of the jar.” Eddie says-- doesn’t ‘order’, exactly, because he could never ‘order’ Richie, that has nothing to do with biology. ‘Demand’, perhaps. It’s a different vibe, and unlike trying to ‘order’ an ever-contrary Richie to do anything, ‘demanding’ gets results.

“Out of the jar?”

“The way I see it, we deserve a cut of any money bet on us. And… I have to go to the pharmacy. I can’t use my mother’s account anymore.”

He could, he thinks, if he were going back on his medications, or maybe even for a couple first aid kit staples, though the thought makes him uneasy. He absolutely can’t, for condoms. Which they’re going to need, because he’s the only guy in the house who can get knocked up, and none of them can afford a baby now, even as a group. They all have school and work and they need to be settled in LA before they can even think about it. Beyond which, he doesn’t know if that’s even something he wants, ever. And he certainly hasn’t discussed it with Richie. They haven’t actually discussed any of it yet, but he knows what he wants, he knows he’s always loved Richie, since before sexual want was a part of his reality. Hell, since before it was a part of Richie’s.

Richie nods-- nobody would begrudge Eddie a couple bucks petty cash for the pharmacy. Not that they count it until it goes to the bank, and anyway, they can put the money back in. Well… Richie can, Eddie supposes, if he’s willing to. Eddie’s a full time student, and now he’s cut off, it’ll be a while before he can contribute monetarily again.

“I’ll walk with you.” He says, folding Eddie’s hand around a couple of bills. “Or-- drive you.”

“You will not, you need to sleep, look at you.”

“You can drive my car, then, and I’ll go with you.”

“Richie, go to _ bed_.”

“After the pharmacy.” He licks his lips, nervous. The realization hits Eddie somewhere in the gut-- nervous about letting Eddie go out alone, after last night, after…

“Spare me the macho alpha routine, Rich, it’s really not you.” He says, and it comes out more cutting than he means it. He tells himself he’ll apologize for the flicker of hurt he sees in Richie’s eyes later. He’s been going to the pharmacy alone since he was a _ child_, and Richie is the one who wouldn’t fuck him last night, a favor between friends does not give him the right to go all overprotective now. And if he doesn’t get some sleep soon, well, the risks to his health…

He breezes out of the kitchen, only for Bev to catch him, just shrugging into her coat as he gets to the door.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve got to go to the pharmacy.” He grabs Richie’s keys from the row of pegs hanging in the entryway. “Richie said I could drive his car.”

“And he’s not going with you?”

“I’m a big boy, I can take myself to the store.”

“Yeah, you’re a big boy, that’s the problem. Eddie, there are guys in this town… It’s not safe. I can’t believe--” She stops, looking past his shoulder. “You’re just giving him your keys?”

“What?” Richie squawks. “I said you could take my car _ with me_, asshole!”

Bev gives Eddie a Look.

“It’s the _ pharmacy_, you’re both being ridiculous.”

“You’ve never had a heat before. You don’t know how you smell to an alpha-- and you know there are alphas in this town you can’t fucking trust. A couple betas I wouldn’t trust, for that matter. There are some real sickos-- most of Bowers’ pack is still hanging around town--”

“They’re not a pack, they’re a gang.” Richie says darkly, and suddenly he’s at Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie is pissed at him, a little bit, but there’s something about it he appreciates. “Look, Eddie, if you don’t want me to go with you, fine, but ask Bill or Bev or somebody. You can take my car, just don’t go alone. There’s no predicting when you’re going to get hit hard like last night, if it happens while you’re out alone-- Shit, it’s not even about whether or not someone might try something, you’ll still need someone who can take care of you and get you out of a public space so you can have some fucking privacy. Hell, if you don’t want an alpha to escort you, you know Ben will.”

Eddie hadn’t considered that, the possibility that he might get hit with the worst of the heat right there in the pharmacy, might be rendered helpless and mewling by the fever. That he might need someone to carry him to the car before he completely lost his dignity and to safely drive him home… Ben would be a good choice-- capable of literally picking him up and carrying him that far, not likely to be affected by the pheromones. Even if they did do something to him, it wouldn’t be strong, and even if it was, he’s _ Ben_, so it wouldn’t matter… but he doesn’t want to go ask Ben. Knowing Richie is thinking about his comfort and need to save face in a pinch as much as he’s thinking about his virtue needing defending changes how he feels about Richie wanting to go with him.

“No, you-- you can come. Just… don’t hover, okay?”

“Okay.” Richie touches his cheek, and then pulls away, self-conscious. Eddie watches him stop himself from grabbing Eddie’s coat for him, shoving his hands under his arms to keep from reaching out.

“Richie-- you’re allowed to care about me, I just-- I don’t… I don’t want everything to change because we thought I was one thing and it turns out I’m another and you see me different.”

“I don’t see you different.” Richie’s voice comes out soft.

“Good.” So does Eddie’s. He hands over Richie’s keys.

He wishes he’d thought to catch Stan earlier… he could have asked Stan about condoms. Couldn’t he have? Maybe not, Stan doesn’t actually _ need _ condoms, he can’t get pregnant, he’s…

‘Normal’, according to Eddie’s mother, who told him for so long that he was ‘normal’, and he should have smelled her bullshit a long time ago, probably, because in the cold light of day and all, there’s no earthly reason why he should have been on the blockers if he was a beta, but he’d accepted it as part of his mother’s craziness, accepted all the hysterics she went into and the excuses.

He hates that word, ‘normal’. Hates the way his mother talks about… well, everything, considering she’s a tremendous bigot on all fronts, and she’d hated most of his friends from the start, but it only increased once they started coalescing into a pack and she went into overdrive trying to warn him away from spending time with them at all, and he’d just neglected to tell her that he was a part of that pack and she couldn’t stop him. 

He’s never been good at ‘and you can’t stop me’. Well, maybe now he is.

He just wishes he knew more about this stuff. About the sex side, anyway. He knows the basics, he knows the social structures and some simple biology even with the tight leash his overprotective mother kept him on and the poisonous bullshit she spouted. Most people are betas, and most betas don’t really join packs, and some-- like Stan and Ben-- do. Usually, statistically, female betas join packs when a pack offers a stable environment for having kids in, and male betas join packs for… well, depending on who compiles the data, they do it for safety in numbers or they do it for the power that comes from running with a group under a strong alpha, or they do it for financial stability and may or may not outgrow pack life to settle down in what Eddie’s mother would call a good nuclear family, but Eddie thinks a lot of that is bullshit. Sure, there is safety in numbers, but that’s not why Stan and Ben are part of the pack, and he can’t imagine either of them ever ‘outgrowing’ the Losers. He thinks betas join packs out of love just as much as out of any practical consideration, same as any ‘normal’ marriage they could opt for.

Eddie knows female alphas are just about the most prized position in a pack, and though he was denied a normal sex education, he knows it’s a reproduction thing-- a female alpha is capable of impregnating an omega, or a female beta, but also capable of carrying a pregnancy. He doesn’t know if it’s true that one could develop a parthenogenetic pregnancy or if that’s one of those things that gets passed around schoolyards before people learn any better, most of what he knows comes from rumors heard before anyone had sex-ed, and the thing about schoolyard rumor is, no one comes back and corrects them once they know the facts. Eddie also knows that outside of pack life, female alphas get a lot of fucking shit, especially in a town like Derry, that the combination of leadership potential and propensity for reproductive success leads to a lot of name-calling that male alphas never get. According to his mother, an unwanted pregnancy can be reabsorbed-- or as she’d put it, ‘no consequences for being a dirty little slut’. He had stood there, his face burning, and he’d imagined slapping her for saying it, because she hadn’t mentioned Bev, but he’d known what she meant, and he’d been ashamed for thinking about slapping his own mother, and ashamed for not doing it. 

Eddie knows male alphas wind up in leadership roles-- usually outside the pack as well. He wonders, suddenly, if his mother would still have blocked him, if she’d suspected he was an alpha, destined for some kind of success somewhere, but knowing her, she would have, to keep him leaving home. Eddie knows male alphas, if they choose a single serious partner, choose a female alpha or a female beta or an omega, and that outside the house, Bill and Mike are so, so careful with Stan and with each other, to look like the boyhood friends they’d always been. Eddie knows there are a _ lot _ of fucking rumors passed around between just-pubescent schoolkids waiting to present or not present and curious about sex, about what it’s like, and he doesn’t know a damn thing about what’s real. Well, no-- he knows the stamina thing is real, and one of the first things he’d learned when he’d started spending time at the house, before moving in, was that Bev and Ben and Richie all made a habit of clearing out for a couple hours every Saturday afternoon, and going back to the house during that window for a jacket he’d forgotten was how he’d learned about how thin the walls are. Which would explain something about how smug and strung out and boneless Stan always seems on a Saturday evening, Eddie’s prior guess being a secret stash of pot brownies and just a lot of natural smugness coming through.

Eddie knows female omegas get hit with some of the shit female alphas do, though when that happens it’s less a stigma against female omegas and more an individual girl getting labeled a nympho instead of an omega, and now that he’s experienced a heat, he gets how it could go… with a male omega, at least it’s obvious, a girl could just not know until a couple of cycles. Eddie knows that in small towns, biology and statistics be damned, a male omega who doesn’t find a female alpha gets shit. He knows this. A male alpha who takes a male omega doesn’t get nearly the same level of it, either, which he thinks he should be mad about, but a part of him is relieved, thinking people might not hassle Richie too bad. Maybe he should pretend he’s also with Bev, a lot of packs are polyamorous and he knows that with only one woman, that’s what everyone must think of theirs, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to think about people thinking that, he wants to be Richie’s. And it wouldn’t be… it wouldn’t be great, no, but it wouldn’t be what Bill and Mike and Stan would get, either. He might get shit from a few small-town people, but on the whole they’d chalk it up to a biological imperative. He knows, he _ knows_, that they wouldn’t call him gay, just desperate. 

Which he has a lot of mixed feelings about, because he knows the things people would say if he really was a beta and he was with a man, and he knows it might not just be words, either, and he knows all the ugly things his own mother says about men like that, he grew up hating himself because of those things and the way she would say them, but he’s known… deep down, he’s known. 

Eddie knows who he is, and he didn’t need his natural libido to know it. Even with any trace of a sex drive artificially dampened, he knew he saw a beauty in boys that he didn’t find in girls. He still yearned-- to touch Richie’s hand, to lay his head against his shoulder, to be softly and chastely kissed by him, held in his arms. Even as they grew up and sex didn’t come into things, he’d admired the way Richie developed a jawline, the way his shoulders broadened, the slight muscle his lanky limbs gained and the new confidence in the way that he moved, how it wasn’t always a charade he put on… Even with a bare idea of what arousal might be, by the time they were sixteen, he daydreamed of Richie pinning him down and kissing him, and he wondered if maybe kissing with tongue wouldn’t be as disgusting as he’d always thought. Even cut off from desire, he’d found the lines of Richie’s near-naked body appealing, when they swam and sunned. 

He’s never wanted to be with someone else, the way he’s wanted to be with Richie, but he also knows that it’s no fluke and it’s been the case long before Richie was a clear alpha, his feelings. But he’s looked at other boys, men. He’s admired Bill, and Mike. He’s noticed Stan’s hair looking touchable even if it didn’t come with a desire to touch it personally, he’d paid attention when Ben suddenly got tall and when running track led to more weight dropping off in favor of muscle. He lets his eyes linger on leading men when he goes to the movies, when the dark makes it feel safe to look where he likes. 

And now, Richie is driving him to the pharmacy, where Eddie just wants to buy condoms, and he doesn’t know if there’s some special kind that they need or what, and he doesn’t know how to ask Richie, who had said it was just a favor between friends last night, but who hadn’t looked at him like just a friend.

“I want you to fuck me.” He blurts out, as Richie pulls in to park. 

“Shit.” Richie says, which is not the response he’d been hoping for, but then Richie’s hand is on his forehead. “Can you wait here and I can get you your stuff, or do you need me to run you home? You don’t feel too hot yet, but like… I mean if I leave you in the car-- shit, no, I’m _ not _ leaving you. You feel it coming already?”

“What?” Eddie blinks. The realization sinks in, and he smacks Richie’s hand away, annoyed and embarrassed. “Fuck you, dude, I’m not-- Can I not just want to for normal reasons?”

“I mean I guess you could, but I kind of don’t get why.” It’s Richie’s turn to regard Eddie with confusion.

“Our friends all bet on how soon we’d fuck once I had a sex drive, like… do you really think they’re all seeing something that’s not there?”

“I mean, they’re all seeing the fact that I clearly want to fuck you, have since before I actually had a real solid grasp on what fucking was, but that doesn’t mean anything. Eddie… you’re in heat. Even if you’re not incapacitated by it right now, it-- You should spend some time knowing what you want when you’re just… normal.”

“You, Rich. I know what I’m talking about.”

“You’ve had your whole sex drive artificially dampened since before it developed, you--”

“Well I haven’t had my feelings artificially dampened! I know what I feel about you. The sex part is new, and… kind of a lot, but-- It’s always been you. It was you when we were kids. Richie… you said if you had me, you wouldn’t be able to give me up. I don’t want you to. I’m, like, fucking in love with you and I want this. I want it to be real, I want it to be something neither of us can ever take back, because you’re all I ever dreamed about.”

The look Richie gives him pins him to his seat, makes his breath quicken a little. 

“I meant it.” He reaches out slowly, his hand barely caresses Eddie’s cheek, but it draws a soft sound from him, and Eddie can see his eyes darken further when it does. “You’re it for me. You always-- like when we were-- When I _ met _ you.”

“You didn’t know when you met me.” He shakes his head, and the heat he feels now isn’t _ that _ heat, isn’t another feverish need coming over him, but it’s the most pleasant embarrassment he’s ever felt. “We were too young.”

“The first time I saw you.” And Richie sounds _ reverent_, a tone he’s never had before in his life. “You were so small. You were so cute. Our parents were dragging us into church and you turned and looked at me and we both didn’t want to be there and I’ve never in my life looked at anyone else the way I look at you. Do you know the first thing you said to me?”

Eddie gapes. He shakes his head slowly. 

“You asked me who my favorite fraggle was.” And his grin also comes on slow, and if Eddie doesn’t kiss him, he thinks he’ll actually _ die_, and that has nothing to do with the heat. “It was--”

“Gobo.”

“So you do remember that.”

“No, but somehow I remember the names of the fucking fraggles and I _ know _ you. And… that’s what you were like as a kid. You would have picked Gobo.”

Finally, Richie leans in and kisses him, or leans in and allows himself to be kissed. They meet in the middle, for something chaste and gentle. 

He remembers now, not that conversation, but a later one, September, when it was the four of them, and the way Richie had smiled at him and mussed his hair, broke from the middle of one of his pointless arguments with Bill-- the kind that never impacted their friendship, or maybe made it stronger, it had been a debate about the fucking fraggles-- and Richie had turned the full force of his exhausting charms on Eddie then, he had touched his hair. He doesn’t remember the words, he doesn’t think he heard them over the sudden thundering of his own heart, the realization at seven or eight years of age that he liked boys, because nothing else made him feel like Richie’s attention did. He’d pushed that realization down, buried it, but he’d never stopped seeking Richie’s attention. 

“I can’t believe I owe my sex life to Fraggle Rock.” Richie whispers the words against Eddie’s lips, and when Eddie bursts out laughing and smacks his chest, he just grins. 

“I would want you to fuck me no matter what show we talked about when we met. Dick. Can we go buy condoms now?”

“Wait, we’re here to buy condoms?”

Eddie gives him a look. Richie nearly falls over scrambling out of the car. He’s around to the passenger’s side before Eddie has the door fully open, in his rush to assist him. His eyes are so wide and his smile is so nervous-hopeful and he looks disheveled and out of breath, like he ran three blocks instead of around one car, and Eddie is filled with so much love for him. 

“So, I mean, like… do you need a special kind, or…?”

“Yeah, extra large.” Richie grabs at his crotch, for comedic effect, only to realize Eddie is serious. “Um… yeah, there’s a-- yeah, there’s an expanded reservoir kind, for-- oh, shit, you got pulled from sex-ed, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, right. So… it’s… _ messy_, with a partner. Not that I’ve-- Just-- That’s what they tell you about, like… that it’s kind of _ more _ than when you just…” He mimes jacking off. “Um, like… if your partner’s in heat, it’s a _ whole _ lot, uh… Like, there’s just more… fluid? Shit, I’m sorry, it’s gross.”

Eddie shrugs. A week ago he would have thought so. Now, he’s not so sure how he feels.

“So in case you notice how many towels Bill washes every weekend, like, you can avoid yourself the embarrassment of asking.” Richie continues, opening the pharmacy door. 

“I’d have just assumed he was washing three people’s towels at once and not asked.”

“No, he is, and it’s still a lot of towels.” He shakes his head. He’s doing his best not to hover, Eddie thinks-- hands shoved down into his pockets, stopping short every time he starts to impinge on Eddie’s personal space as he follows him through the aisles, to the one they need.

But it’s different now, isn’t it? It’s not hovering, if they’re together, it’s closeness. Eddie reaches for him and tugs him closer, smiling shyly.

“Rich… I’m, um… I’m sorry, for earlier, what I said-- I was just…”

“You didn’t want to be treated different, I get it.”

“Well-- no, I mean… I want to be treated _ different_, just… not because I turned out to be… I mean, ‘different’’s not the problem.”

“Okay.” Richie grins, a little nervous, and pulls down a box of _ Alphatex Extra Large_, which… 

That’s a little intimidating, actually. But apparently it’s not all jokes when Richie brags about size… They both shift awkwardly as Eddie compares ingredients on a couple of brands’ extra large-with-extended-reservoir, discounting anything pre-lubricated. Clearly _ that’s _ unnecessary, and when he’s not in heat they can purchase a separate lube. For a minute he fears it’s coming on again right in the aisle, but he realizes he’s just experiencing normal arousal, the kind maybe most people feel when they’re shopping for condoms with the love of their life for the very first time and he says he actually needs an extra large and maybe you thought you were mentally exaggerating the bulge you saw in the front of his pajamas when you were out of your mind with animal lust but maybe you were just noticing that he really is that big, and Eddie really wants to get fucked.

Wow.

Richie hangs back when Eddie approaches the register, before Eddie can suggest it, seems to pick up on just the thought, he loiters in a nearby aisle as Eddie endures the look Greta gives him when she rings him up.

She doesn’t say anything, at least, but he doesn’t need to be a mind-reader to know what she’s thinking, and he snatches his purchase back, cheeks burning, Richie rejoining him as he marches out of the pharmacy.

“I’ll buy them next time, if you want.” Richie opens the car door for him, hand coming back up to his cheek. 

“Sure.” He nods, and leans into the touch just briefly. “Rich… take me home?”


	2. Chapter 2

“I guess we can put the office back.” Eddie says, as they climb the stairs, Richie trailing after him, holding his hand. “Since I don’t really need a room of my own.”

“Yeah?” Richie grins at him. “I’ll move my shit around so you can move yours in. Make sure you have drawer space, closet space… room for all your, you know. Books and shit.”

At the top of the stairs, Eddie turns and wraps his arms around Richie’s neck, leaning up to be kissed. It’s warm and languid, with hands that sweep up his back and then down, resting at his hips. 

And it’s wonderful and he wants more, but Richie is _ exhausted_, he can feel it. He pulls back reluctantly, reaching up to cup his cheeks.

“You really do need to sleep.”

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”

“Dude, I don’t know if you _ can_, if you don’t get some rest first.” He gives Richie another quick peck, to take the sting out of it. “You stayed up all night to look out for me.”

“Well… yeah.”

“Come on… get some rest. I’ll make you some lunch before you have to head in to work and I have to find anywhere other than this house to be for a couple hours… and then tonight? I don’t— I don’t want to rush through our first time while you’re struggling to stay awake, I want… I want our real first time to be special.”

Richie groans. “That’s right, fucking _ Stan _ has to get double-teamed for shabbos, and I have to go to work.”

“Yeah, does everyone have scheduled sex days, or…? Because I don’t know if I can do that.”

“No, it’s just Stan, and it’s just this one— like, it’s just once a week where they’re loud about it. Other than that either everyone waits to have the place to themselves or they keep it down.”

Eddie won’t always be able to do that, either— it’s starting to sink in what going into heat is going to entail. This first time, he’s still recovering from years of being on the blockers, he doesn’t know if he’s having a typical experience or not. Again, schoolyard rumor had once suggested that an omega could expect to spend a week flat on his or her back begging for it, with little respite from the desire, but rumor had also suggested that alphas were also slave to animal instinct. Somehow they’d all just believed, for a couple years, that people might at any point be seized with the inescapable urge to fuck in the street, and it was only sheer dumb luck that they’d never actually seen it happen. But Richie had worked him through the worst of it— the worst so far— and had wanted him, and had controlled himself perfectly. The way the others have talked about it, he takes it he’s expected to get hit with that feverish need every once in a while until he’s through with his heat, and… and then he guesses he’ll find out what his normal is.

He’s not going to get to choose convenient times, when he’s in heat, that’s the main thing he’s looking at. And he’s not going to be able to control how loud he is. At least it’s just his friends in the house and he trusts them. They’ll tease him, sure, but not more than he can take, not more than they’d expect him to tease them about whatever… whatever.

He watches Richie change into his pajamas, takes in the fading freckles that dust his arms, and the dark hair that spreads from the center of his chest. The way the stretched-out v-neck tee shirt he shrugs into shows just a little of it off… 

“You gonna join me?” Richie asks, scooting over. 

“For a little while.” Eddie nods, slipping out of his own clothes and hanging them up for later, finding his discarded pajama pants. He doesn’t bother with the shirt— the room is a little chilly without it, but once he slips under the covers and cuddles up to Richie, he’s warm enough. “Until you fall asleep, at least.”

Richie holds him close. Before, if they shared a bed, Richie might sling an arm around him to keep him from rolling off the edge of a too-narrow bed, but they rarely cuddled. Maybe, if one of them had a nightmare, and once or twice on nights that Eddie rushed out to the house after his mother had been too much to bear, or if Richie had had a particularly hard day. He’d manhandle Eddie into being his personal teddy bear, but they had to joke about it, Eddie had to give a token protest before settling into it, even though he thinks Richie always knew he never minded it. Sought it out as often as Richie did. But they tried not to, not all the time, not…

Well, they had reason enough. Even with an artificially absent libido, Eddie was well acquainted with morning wood, just as an occasional physical problem to deal with. The kind of thing it would be awkward to wake up with if you had your full body pressed to one of your best friends, whether or not you secretly loved him. And they were both trying to pretend they didn’t love each other, trying to be adults who didn’t need to be held all night because of a bad day or an old trauma being poked at anew. 

Now, they can just do it because they like it, because they love each other. Because Richie is warm and his heartbeat and breathing are steady and strong and Eddie feels himself fall in line when they’re close, feels some of his nerves relax if he can focus on breathing in time. Because Richie has _ muscle _ now— a little, anyway, and where it counts. A firm chest and nice arms that make Eddie feel secure and cozy. Thighs he’s pretended not to notice. He may not be Ben, who has the track team and a couple summers of hauling lumber around and building sheds and shit to thank for his physique, or Mike, who’s always had a strong body built by farm work, but even so… He could go toe to toe physically with Bill, at least. 

Eddie considers himself an expert on Richie’s body. How it feels next to his own, and how it’s changed. First, when they’d both dropped the puppy fat of childhood and become very skinny young teens— though Eddie had been a little slower to develop all around, had been soft and unfinished a while as his friends shot up and careened towards adulthood with the training wheels off— and then… then, after a few lanky and awkward years, when Richie had started to put on muscle. When years of swimming and bike riding started to pay off here and there, and at one point Richie had bought a set of small hand weights that everyone was sure he’d stick under his bed and never use again, only for him to be dedicated. He’d sit and lift weights while Ben did push-ups and sit-ups, and then ride his bike alongside him while he ran, back when he was training to make the track team… Eddie had joined in, with the running, no longer hampered by the ‘asthma’ he’d once believed precluded him from any such activities. 

It was fun, he was good… he couldn’t join the team, back in high school, when it meant forms and slips his mother would have to sign, he’d known she never would… but it was enough to help Ben train and to get to feel his body working, the pleasant ache of exertion. Enough to laugh at Richie’s impression of the coach as he shouted encouragement— or at his impression of Robert Preston speak-singing about exercise from the sidelines. Eddie had not been built for push-ups or sit-ups, but when Richie had graduated to a slightly larger hand weight, Eddie had picked up his old ones. 

He hadn’t seen a lot of results himself. He wonders if that might change now, without all the pills, or if he’s missed the boat, or if he was destined to be small and willowy anyway. Maybe it doesn’t matter— he’s seen results in what he can do, that’s more important than what he looks like. He gets to enjoy what Richie looks like.

Richie got a car last year, his folks’ old one when they replaced it, saving him from biking everywhere— though if someone else in the pack ever needs to borrow it, he still has a bike. They could use a third vehicle, Eddie thinks… he’d like to have one he could call his own, even if in practice they were all communal anyway. The garage is full, but he could park in the driveway. 

He drifts through daydreams. A third car would make it easier, when they pack up and drive across the country. Another car to hitch a trailer to, more room to pack their stuff… He can’t imagine his mother handing over her keys to him, though. And he doesn’t know when he’d ever see money like that— and if he did, it would have to go towards finding them a house, first. They can rent a bigger moving truck if they need to… and then they’ll all go to LA.

He tries to picture their house, and can’t quite. Pictures palm tree-dotted streets and warm sunsets over the ocean, but can’t picture what a new house would be like. The ocean— instead of the quarry, he’d have to lecture them all about how dangerous swimming in the ocean is, and then he’ll let them drag him in anyway. They’ll spread out big blankets on the sand and he’ll make sure they all have sunscreen. They’ll… they’ll find places to spend all their free time. They won’t have the barrens, but then, they’ve outgrown the clubhouse, and they don’t need a clubhouse when they have a house-house, but they’ll still need places to go and get some air and some change of scene… parks where they can all go walking and beaches and just places where they can go when they aren’t in school or at work. He can’t picture what he’ll do for work, either, but that’s okay. He’ll figure it out in LA.

It’ll be warm most of the year and the winters will be mild, won’t they? And his arm won’t hurt because it won’t freeze up in the winter, to remind him of where Bowers broke it. And they’ll meet other packs, other packs of nice, normal people who they can hang out with sometimes, it won’t be like in Derry. Packs get along better in big cities, he thinks— you _ have _ to. When you rub elbows with other packs because you live and work in a city, you learn to get along, and he loves that idea, of just being able to know other people who are something like him, and who would understand the love he feels for his friends, and why it feels so right to be together. 

Eventually, Eddie rolls over so that he can see the clock on Richie’s nightstand, and Richie’s arm tightens around him when he does, Richie snuffles against his neck and murmurs indistinctly in his sleep. 

“Nnooo, m’Eddie…” He says, when Eddie actually tries to leave the bed, and then another noise that might mean something within the depths of his dreaming, but doesn’t quite translate even to sleep-talk. 

“Shh, shh, remember I promised I’d make lunch?” Eddie whispers, kissing his cheek and extracting himself from his octopus-like grip. “Shh, sleep… sleep a little longer.”

Riche settles, when Eddie strokes his hair and shushes him a little more, and so Eddie leaves him to catch up on a little more sleep, dressing and heading downstairs and fixing grilled cheese sandwiches. He’s wrapping them in foil to take on the road when Stan comes in, loosening his tie and heading for the stairs.

“Come and get me, boys!” He hollers, and Eddie laughs, bagging the sandwiches. He can hear Stan hammering on Richie’s door and telling him to clear out, though the words are indistinct, and it’s not long before Richie appears.

“Babe.” He greets, kissing Eddie’s cheek. “We should… leave. Where can I drop you?”

Eddie frowns, handing over the bag with the sandwiches and finding his bookbag. He can spend his Saturday afternoon studying, but now he has considerations he never used to… normally he’d go to the library, but Mike obviously isn’t working there now, he’s just passing them and heading up the stairs after Stan, and… and Bev and Richie are right, he doesn’t want to be out on his own right now. He can handle himself as long as he’s in his right mind, but what if he’s not? What if the fever hits him and he loses all sense of dignity and self-preservation?

“Hardware store.” He says. Ben can keep him safe if his heat goes into overdrive, and there’s a bench outside where he can read without being in the way, under the awning. “You can come pick me and Ben up when you get off work, he can put his bike on the rack.”

Eddie winds up driving there so that Richie can eat, and then Richie moves into the driver’s seat when Eddie hops out, with his books and his sandwich. It’s a nice enough day to spend on a bench studying, he might as well study in the fresh air.

For a good while, he’s fine. He gets into a groove with his reading, makes his notes, feels prepared for his Monday classes, and then that familiar feeling hits him, the thing he hadn’t recognized right away when it first came on, but he knows it now for the beginning flush of the heat-fever. He shoves his things back into his bag and hurries inside, looking for Ben— and dodging anyone else who might take notice of him in his state. 

“Eddie! Hey, what— oh.” Ben, to his credit, catches on quick. “You look… not great.”

“Thanks.” He says drily. He doesn’t feel great. He feels a little sweaty and a little glassy, a little too much like being actually sick, except for the part where he’s also getting horny, and the fact that Richie is at work is starting to bother him more and more. 

Ben steers him towards the back room, such as it is, deposits him on a lumpy sofa crammed between a desk and a filing cabinet. He can hear him outside talking to Mrs. Henderson, the ma half of the ma-and-pa ownership, the voices if not the words filtering in through the door, and then Ben is back. There’s a sink, and a kettle, and some cupboards, a poster about safety, not much else to look at in Ben’s absence, but even on his return Eddie can’t find it in himself to manage much conversation. Ben takes one good look at him and wets a couple folded paper towels, comes and places them on Eddie’s forehead, giving him an awkward smile. 

“Hey. I’m going to do some employee safety training stuff back here for now, okay? And Mrs. H said she’d guard the door if they need me for something out front while you’re, uh… indisposed.”

“She’s not mad? I didn’t— I didn’t want to— at work, but— It was just the best place to go.” 

“No, she understands. Way better than they would at Bev’s or Richie’s jobs, probably. You were in the area and needed to find a pack member, it happens to people all the time. I’m gonna make you a cup of tea and you can drink it if you want. It might help. I mean, it’s not like a suppressant or anything but maybe you’d feel better?”

Eddie feels a slight relief at that, and he nods, watching Ben make a cup of tea in a chipped beige and orange mug. He sits himself up a little more against the arm of the sofa, accepting the mug and breathing in the steam. 

He gets about halfway through it, in small, careful sips, before it’s all too much to bear, and he has to set the mug down on the floor and collapse a little, shivering with his arms wrapped tight around himself. It feels different from before, worse. 

His eyes are screwed shut, but he can hear the plasticky click of Ben picking up the phone receiver and dialing. 

“Hi, can you put me on with Richie Tozier?” He asks, nervous, but when Richie’s voice comes over, tinny and cheerful, Ben stammers out a ‘wrong number’ and hangs up.

“Sorry, Eddie.” He says, and he sounds sorry, which is the nice thing about Ben. “I didn’t think he’d be in the booth but he’s on air right now.”

Eddie moans, miserable. Well he definitely couldn’t have gone to work with Richie, then… he can just imagine himself bent over the console and Richie promising the booth was soundproof and then one of them hitting the button to turn the mic hot… 

It’s not long before the phone rings and then Ben is grabbing Eddie’s hand, pushing the receiver into it.

“Eddie?” Richie’s voice, tinged with worry this time, In-a-Gadda-da-Vida playing in the background. “Eddie, hey… hey, baby, how you holding up?”

“Bad.” He admits. “Want you here.”

“Yeah, I want me there, too. Sorry— the deejay’s out sick and they actually put me on the air, and— Forget it, I’ve got— I’ve got seventeen minutes.”

“We’re not having phone sex.” Eddie says flatly, though something in him throbs at the idea and there’s a slick feeling beginning inside of him. He’s not going to, not in the back room of a hardware store, with Ben right there, but a part of him wants to. And it makes Richie laugh.

“Noted. Just… take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay, when I get off I’ll come pick you up and take you home, and then I can take care of you. I know it’s going to be kind of too late for this, but… but I’ll make it up to you, okay? In our bed? And— and it’ll be better than this, because you’ll just feel like yourself and you can tell me what you really want or don’t want, and I’ll— you know, it’ll be however you want it. Not… not because you can’t help yourself, just because— because I love you, okay, Eds? I love you so much, I’m so sorry I’m not with you right now, but I promise it’ll be, it’ll be better, when I am.”

“It’s worse this time.” Eddie gasps, sharp, and tries his hardest to regulate his breathing again, hips twisting, searching out something he knows he won’t be getting. He pulls his jacket off, uncoordinated, and Ben moves to help him juggle that and the phone, to help him get a little more comfortable. He ties the jacket around Eddie’s waist without being asked, so that he can’t lose it, or so that it can hide his current condition a little, as the arousal really kicks in.

“Oh, Eddie… hey, hey, shh, I know. It’s gonna— it’s gonna be like that. Look, if… if you change your mind and you want to pick up a mild suppressant, you know that doesn’t mean you’re going backwards, right? It’s not the same as the blockers at all, and you don’t ever have to take it when you don’t want it, but if it’s really bad and you want to make that choice, I’m never going to say ‘oh, but you said you didn’t want to take anything ever again’, like… you’re always allowed to change your mind about what you want, and I’m always going to be behind you. Whatever you want, I’m always going to be behind you. You’re my Eddie Spaghetti, you’re my guy.”

A mild suppressant doesn’t sound so bad right now, when the fever wracks his body and Richie is on the other side of town. He doesn’t want to drug away his body’s natural… stuff, but if it was just to take the edge off the symptoms without interrupting the heat cycle, if he only took it when he needed it and not on a regular basis, maybe Richie is right and it wouldn’t be a step back. 

“Do you… do you have to work tomorrow?” He asks.

“Yeah. They’re gonna put me on air again, just for a short block, they said. Until Dave’s emergency is handled I guess. But you could… you’d be able to stay in bed if you felt like this, and— and you could grab one of my shirts out of the laundry if you needed to. And you could— you’d get to hear my voice a little bit, if you put the radio on.”

“‘kay…” 

“Hey, Eddie? Someday… someday I’m gonna… I’m gonna be able to take time off whenever you need me. When I make it big out in LA, I’ll schedule all my time off around when you’ll need me. I’ll take really good care of you, I promise. Until then… I’ll just have to do the best I can, okay?”

Eddie nods, a little too far gone to remember Richie can’t know that he’s nodding. What the phone can pick up on his the occasional whimper he can’t help, and Richie makes a soft, sympathetic noise when another one of those tears its way free.

“I can’t leave the station job, but… my Monday through Thursday, you can call the office if you need me and I can arrange a break when you need me. I can be there whenever you need me, okay? I promise. Monday through Thursday, all you ever have to do is call.”

There are more promises of care and words of love, until he has to go back on air, and Eddie has to surrender the receiver to Ben. It feels like hours before the fever breaks, leaving Eddie exhausted and damp with sweat— and uncomfortably slick, down between his legs, though he doesn’t think he’s soaked through the layers he’s wearing— at least, not through the jacket tied around his waist, small mercy, that. He’s limp and out of it when Ben lifts him up, his world narrowed only to what immediately affects him. 

“Front seat.” Richie is saying, and then Richie is close, his hand moving to Eddie’s cheek, his forehead. “Hey, baby, how you doing?”

“Tired. Gross.”

“Okay, okay… We’ve got you.” He promises, and his touch vanishes for just a moment as Ben carefully moves Eddie to the passenger seat of Richie’s car, the seat already reclined fully. Then Richie is back, leaning across his body to buckle him in. “Heyyy, we’ve got you, Eds. There you go, safety first. Oh, shit, you…”

He stops talking, in favor of breathing Eddie in, and for just a brief moment, he looks as out of it as Eddie feels. He pats Eddie’s chest and then removes himself from where he’s halfway leaned into the car. 

“Benny boy! Got your bike on the rack? Good, keys are in the ignition, take us home, big guy!” He says, jogging around to get in behind the driver’s seat, where he can lean over, close to where Eddie’s leaned back, where he can keep stroking his face and hair. 

Eddie feels a little better by the time they get to the house. Not good, remotely, but able to move under his own power. He leans into Richie, appreciating the arm around him less for the physical support it provides and more for the simple nearness of him.

“You need a nap?” He asks. 

Stan and Bill and Mike are on the sofa, when they pass through the living room, and all three give them an understanding nod. 

“I’m picking Bev up from work in a little bit, you want anything from the store while I’m out?” Mike offers, while Eddie is still working on an answer for Richie. He shakes his head, managing a wan smile.

“I just want a shower right now.” He says at last. At least there’s no competition for that— those three have their own bathroom, and if Ben needs one, he can use theirs. And… well, embarrassing as it is to need help, he probably does need Richie to stay with him. He _ wants _ Richie to stay with him, embarrassment be damned. 

“Sure you can stay on your feet?” 

Eddie shakes his head, his hand covering Richie’s where it rests at his side. “Nope. But I’m not taking a bath and soaking in my own filth, so what are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, at your service.” Richie grins, and he scoops Eddie up and throws him over his shoulder, carrying him up the stairs. Eddie is still a little subdued for the show of kicking and squealing he’d usually put on, but he grabs on tight where he can and giggles weakly. 

“And was that to prove big macho alpha displays suit you?” He teases, when Richie sets him down in front of the hall bath. 

“That was because I like doing it. Go on and use the toilet if you need to first and I’ll go grab you a change of clothes, okay? And you can get the water started heating up.” Richie kisses his cheek, warm and tender, before leaving him a little moment of privacy and heading for Eddie’s largely-unused room. 

Evidently, while Eddie is getting the water started, Richie is dropping by both rooms— when Eddie tells him to come on in after his knock, he brings Eddie a pair of sweatpants, but one of his own shirts, as well as bringing his own pajamas to change into early. 

“I’m really sorry I wasn’t there today.” He says, following Eddie into the shower. 

The water is warm, but it feels cool sluicing over Eddie’s still-heated skin, until he cools down and it warms up further. Still, it feels good, like it’s already starting to wash away all his earlier discomfort. 

“It’s okay. Um… I mean, I— I wanted our first time, like… our first time doing something mutual? To just be because we wanted to. Maybe tonight?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. I mean, I don’t mind giving you a hand, and I won’t mind… you know. But I’d feel better, like… I want to know what you like before we’re— I want to know when you can tell me what’s good, so when you need it, I know I’m doing it right.” Richie nods. “You want some help?”

“I’m okay, I just need a spotter in case I fall over.” Eddie shrugs, but Richie looks so open and wanting. “I mean, yeah, you could. And I could help you?”

Richie breaks out into a grin so bright he could light the room, grabbing Eddie’s preferred shampoo from the lineup of bath products that dot the edge of the tub, the tiny shelf, and the sill of the little narrow window over the shower. He massages it into Eddie’s scalp, gently rinses the suds away, and then they’re both working up lathers, hands moving over each other’s bodies. 

It’s nice, definitely. If Eddie hadn’t been wiped out by his earlier heat fever, he might be up for more now, but he can’t quite summon up the same level of interest Richie has. It’s more comfort than arousal for him now, the reassurance of his partner’s touch after he’d endured the fever alone, the hushed laughter and the soft kisses making the shower feel safe and sweet. The promise that he’d be taken care of one way or another, always, in the way that Richie handles him. With care, but not with kid gloves. With love.

“Do you want a hand?” Eddie asks, his own skimming down Richie’s belly, narrowly avoiding his straining cock. “You gave me one the other day when I needed it… I could return the favor? I mean— I want to, if you— if it’s okay with you.”

“Dude, it’s so okay with me.” Richie nods eagerly. 

“You look really good.” Eddie blushes, shifting in closer. He’s _ big_, and yes, Eddie knew that, he’s had that glimpse of Richie testing the tensile strength of his pajamas, he’s seen him pick out condoms, but it’s different now that he’s actually getting his hand on it for the first time, feeling it leap at his first tentative touch and then getting a grip, slick on wet, soapy skin. He’s _ really _ big. 

“You look really good.” Richie mumbles, and he’s blushing, too, and he has no idea what to do with his hands, they move between Eddie’s hips and shoulders, uncertain. 

“You can touch me if you want. I mean, I’m not— I’m too tired to— but you can still touch me wherever, it’s cool. Like, very, very cool.”

Their eyes meet, and they both laugh, before Eddie drops his forehead to Richie’s shoulder.

“I always thought we’d be better at this.” Richie admits. 

“You did?”

“I mean, I didn’t think you were ever going to want to, but I always imagined if you did, we’d be good at it. But I guess everyone’s kind of a dork the first time.”

“You weren’t, when you took care of me.”

“Uh, dude, yes I was. I was a nervous wreck and I thought I was going to die and you were beautiful and you smelled like sex and I was scared of doing something wrong and scared you’d never look at me again, I was like… simultaneously in heaven and in hell, you just didn’t pick up on how much of a dork I was because you were in heat for the first time. Trust me, I was, like… I was not cool.”

“You felt cool to me.” Eddie angles his head a little, kissing Richie’s collarbone. He strokes up Richie’s side with his other hand, and then over his chest, before he gives up on trying to get Richie off one-handed. The moment his second hand joins in with the first, Richie is groaning, hips bucking forward. 

“Oh— shit, yeah, you— you’re… shit, Eddie, that’s good…”

“Yeah?” He lifts his head, meeting Richie’s eyes, floored by the desire in them.

“Yeah.” Richie nods, and then his hand is sliding into Eddie’s hair, guiding him in for a kiss. Moving down to curve around the side of his neck, the other at his waist, and Eddie is grateful for the non-skid mat they’re standing on, because he knows too many terrible accidents that could happen in a shower, but jerking someone else off— or being jerked off— isn’t all that different from jerking off in the shower, which he’s pretty sure Richie has done on a regular basis, and which he’s done himself once or twice, though it had usually been more frustrating than satisfying to try, back when he was on the blockers. 

He’d be happy being kissed like this every day of his life, he thinks. The way Richie directs him with a touch, the way he takes and gives, the way even at his most dominant, he’s coaxing Eddie into being an active participant in his own pleasure, teasing him out of his shell… Everything feels less clumsy once they’re kissing, Eddie feels confident, braver. He feels sexy, and even with the heat, he hasn’t felt that yet, not like this— before, whatever sexual appeal he had was chemical. Richie withstood it that first time because he loved and respected him, but what he reacted to sexually wasn’t anything Eddie was doing, it was just… chemical. It was beyond anyone’s control.

But Eddie is doing this, Eddie is kissing Richie back and stroking him off and sharing a shower with him. Eddie _ invited _ Richie to join him in the shower, and then he invited Richie to touch him, to touch him in any way he liked with no expectation of results, just because they could and it would feel good. And now, when Richie moans into his mouth and bucks his hips, it’s because of what Eddie is doing, what he’s choosing to do, and he feels electric. 

His own arousal is more mental than physical, and he’d rather ignore the physical side than coax it out, he is tired and he does want to dry off and lie down soon, but that doesn’t change how amazing it feels to be like this with the man he loves. 

Richie’s hand slips down from his waist to his ass, squeezing, and Richie starts coming, gives Eddie the breathy request to keep going, keep going, keep going, and there’s so much of it. Richie cleans them both up again, when he does finish— Eddie still feels dazed, thinking about the come that painted his chest and belly. Between their bodies, protected from the spray of the shower, it had lingered on his skin a moment as Richie came down, he’d been dripping with it. That, he guesses, explains the special condoms, and they definitely need those because he’s still not getting pregnant, but he thinks he likes the mess. He’s always been pretty mess-avoidant, but…

He wants Richie to come on him again.

Things are tender in the aftermath. Richie dries him off and helps him dress, and kisses him every chance he gets.

Downstairs, Eddie sits at the dining room table, where Stan and Bev are already hanging out and playing go fish, and Richie kisses his temple before going to help with dinner.

“Is everyone else on the dinner team?” Eddie asks.

“Ben is, Bill has Mike proofreading something he wants to send out to a literary magazine.” Stan says. “I promised to look at it tomorrow.”

Bev deals Eddie in. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Really.” He sighs. “Is it just going to be like this now, everyone’s going to talk about how I’m doing?”

“No. But this is your first time going through something big and we’re your family. And you were alpha-less most of the afternoon. So I want to know you’re doing okay. No one told me shit about you behind your back except to say you had a rough day— anything more than that you can tell me or you can not tell me.” She says, more gently than he perhaps deserves after jumping down her throat for the grand crime of giving a shit about his general well-being.

And that’s fair, he supposes, that his friends give each other a heads up if he’s under the weather, same as someone might let him know one of the others was sick or exhausted or just having a shitty day. He’s used to his friends supporting him and caring about him, but it’s different now that he lives with them, and it’s different now that he’s the pack’s sole omega— he’s used to living with his mother, and her brand of ‘care’, there’s something in him that still jerks and kicks at being looked out for even though he knows his friends are different. But then… if there’s one person who will be understanding with him on the subject of how the family you didn’t choose can fuck you up, it’s Bev. 

“Well, I’m okay. I’m just tired. And I’d like to have, like… a normal fucking sex life one of these days. I waited long enough and instead of just getting to feel like everyone feels most of the time, I’ve got… this shit going on. I didn’t get to ease into it.”

The realization slaps him in the face all over again— his mother took away his chance for normal, not her ‘normal’ but real normal for his real self, and it seems like there’s always some new thing to discover he should have had. He should have had false fevers during puberty, to prepare him for when the real thing happened, he should have presented in little ways long before he was sexually mature and sending off pheromones and getting incapacitated with horniness, he should have had those little ‘this is what adulthood has in store’ moments along the way and then he wouldn’t be quite so unprepared now. He should have had a fucking sex ed class, too. He should have had any kind of understanding of what his body was going to be like instead of getting dropped in the deep end. 

“My mom really fucked me over.” He adds. Bev leans over and pats his arm.

“You did the right thing, looking out for yourself.” She tells him. “You’re really brave, Eddie. You can get through this, too— and it’ll get… well, you’ll get better at it, if it doesn’t get easier.”

“Thanks.”

“And why aim for a normal sex life, anyway? Normal’s overrated.” Stan kicks him gently under the table, slouching down in his chair to be able to reach. 

“Yeah, says the guy who has two alphas.” Bev snorts.

“I was open to having three, but you and Ben were already all monogamous.” He shrugs, and she laughs. 

“Well thank you for your consideration for some mythical four-way—”

“Five, you’d bring Ben with you in this fantasy.”

“Well thank you for your consideration for some mythical five-way…” She laughs even harder at that, abandoning any pretense of caring about starting up another round of cards just at the moment. “But even if that wouldn’t send Ben screaming for the hills, I think Bill and I learned we were just not compatible like that. Why don’t you ask Richie and Eddie?”

“Gross.” Stan says immediately. “No offense, Eddie. I meant Richie.”

Eddie laughs at that, himself. Honestly, he feels a little relief at knowing Richie wasn’t invited into anyone else’s bed before him— and at knowing that just because they’re in a pack and some of the pack members are polyarmorous, among themselves they understand not everyone is, and they can joke about it openly without discomfort. The rest of the world might assume otherwise, and maybe that’s okay. No one gets them anyway, no one ever has. They didn’t call themselves the Super Popular Kids Club, after all. They were the Losers then, and they’re the Losers now, and people can assume what they want. 

“Stan… did your parents freak out about you moving into the house?” He changes the subject. 

“They didn’t get why I would. I’m not an alpha, I’m not an omega. I didn’t tell them about Bill and Mike, like… at _ all_. I said you guys were my friends and if we all pitched in we could actually rent a really nice house with plenty of room, and carpool over to the college, so I didn’t need to worry about transportation and rent was reasonable and then I told my grandmother that on shabbos, I didn’t so much turn on a _ lightswitch _ in this house, and she told my dad there was an upside to living with you guys. I mean, he pointed out he turns on lightswitches all the time because we’re reform anyway, but my mom’s mom is orthodox, so you know. I mean I had to move out of their house eventually, so why not a stable living situation with people I’ve known and trusted since we were kids? They helped me bring my stuff over. And then I had to, like… not let them move my stuff up into the bedroom with the giant three-man bed that I would be sharing with two men, but hey.”

“Most of my stuff is still at my mom’s house because I don’t want to go to get it and maybe have to see her.” He slumps forward across the table, and both Bev and Stan lean forward to place a hand on him. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to find myself trapped there again with all her crazy, because I’m crazy, too, and… maybe she made my life a living hell sometimes, but she’s my mother. I don’t know what to do with all that.”

“You’ve still got a key? There’s no way your mom changed the locks on you… when she’s at work, when she’s not likely to be back soon, then we’ll go. Whoever you want to take with you.”

Richie had said that from Monday to Thursday, he could get away from work whenever Eddie needed him… maybe that didn’t mean just for heat stuff. Maybe…

“When do you have time off?” He asks Bev. “From work or classes or whatever?”

“I can ditch anything on Wednesday.”

Eddie nods. “Cool. Well… maybe then. She should be at work. It’s just…”

“Yeah.” She squeezes his arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll back you up.”

“I won’t.” Stan says, but he squeezes Eddie’s other arm just the same. “Wednesday’s when I tutor. But good luck dodging your mom.”

“Thanks.” He says, and after a long, quiet moment, he lifts his head, looking to Stan. “Hey, um… what’s it like? Um, the…”

“Sex with an alpha?” He says, way too casually. Though under the circumstances, Eddie thinks he’s glad for Stan’s blunt candor. If he asked Ben— well, first of all it wouldn’t help, because Eddie means a male alpha specifically, but more than that, they’d both wind up blushing and sputtering and going around in circles. 

He guesses he could just as well ask either Bill or Mike, except asking Bill is impossible, he’d be too embarrassed, it’s less like a frank talk with a friend and more like going to your big brother asking for the Talk. And Mike… would probably go the same way as Ben. 

“Yeah. That.”

“You haven’t yet?”

“Not, like… no. Not really. We’re going to, later. I just… I don’t know this shit. I wasn’t allowed to actually learn about this shit.”

“It’s just sex, Eddie. I mean, it’s good. Like… it’s _ really _ good. But it’s also Richie, so I don’t know what to tell you. I mean… he’s not going to turn into an animal or anything. The stamina is really something and you’re going to want to put a towel down, but it’s not scary. It’s just… being with someone who wants to make you happy. I know right now you’re on a roller coaster, but it’s going to be okay. Forget about all the weird horror stories people tell, those are all just made up by people who don’t get it and don’t want to. You know what Richie is like. Richie in bed is still Richie. I mean… think of all the stories you know aren’t true. Or… stuff that people misrepresent. Like… when the time comes, just relax and if something feels natural, then you know it’s right. But if nothing feels natural, it doesn’t mean it’s wrong, it just means you’re new to this stuff and it takes time to get comfortable. I mean, none of us started out having crazy amazing sex, we fumbled through getting to know each other in bed, and we got good.”

“Damn right.” Bev adds. “You’re going to be okay. I mean, would Stan lie to you to make you feel better?”

Stan shakes his head, expression utterly deadpan, and Eddie laughs.

“Thanks, you guys. I feel better. I think.”

“You should.” She shuffles the cards back into their box, before rising. “I’m gonna get this table set for dinner before they finish up in there and we run into a pile-up trying to get fed.”

Eddie heads to the downstairs half-bath to wash up for dinner, despite having done very little since getting out of the shower. It wouldn’t feel right not to. When he gets back to the table, he helps Bev and Mike with getting the places set. Bill comes in bearing a pitcher of iced tea and one of water, and behind him come Ben and Richie, with a big tray of roasted vegetables and a large serving bowl of pasta. 

Everything feels _ cozy_, the way a home— a family— should feel, Eddie thinks. Richie scoots their chairs closer together, and serves Eddie first, and settles with an arm draped across his shoulders, and Eddie can’t say he’ll be totally relaxed about stepping up their sex life, but Stan had a point, it’s _ Richie_, and he knows Richie won’t turn into an animal because he hadn’t when he’d helped him out the first time— he knows Richie loves him because he’d been so concerned for him, because he’d been ready, willing, and able to deny himself for Eddie’s sake, even before they could really discuss feelings. And because since then, he hasn’t been shy about saying it. And their friends are settled in around the table, Ben serving Bev to pasta while she pours his tea, Mike piling vegetables onto both Stan and Bill’s plates while Bill fills their water glasses, everyone looking after each other, trading soft touches and easy smiles, conversation starting to flow as everyone shares about their days… 

Eddie _ does _ feel better. He feels ready for things he couldn’t have imagined being ready for once. He feels happy, and he feels safe. And on Wednesday, Bev and Richie at least will both help him get the rest of his things, and he’ll move it all into Richie’s room, and it will be _ their _ room.

He leans his head against Richie’s shoulder for just a moment, with a sigh. 

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just… really glad I live with you guys now.”

“Aww.” Richie’s smile is a little too watery, he fails to come up with a jab at Eddie’s sappiness. “Me, too.”


End file.
